


figure it out

by tangxuanxi



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Blood and Gore, Crimes & Criminals, I love him I promise, M/M, Murder, Obsession, On the Run, Romance, The whole thing is no beta we ride at dawn, Unhealthy Relationships, Violence, donghyuck is dead, im sorry hyuckie i love you i swear, writing a dead hyuck hurts me so much
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-13
Updated: 2020-08-30
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:00:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24691942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tangxuanxi/pseuds/tangxuanxi
Summary: guilty until proven innocentorinnocent until proven guilty?~~there will not be any trigger warnings in this story. Read at your own risk. I’m not including all tags bc i don’t want to spoil the story, so again, read at your own risk. If you have any triggers please proceed with caution or just don’t read at all.
Relationships: Mark Lee/Nakamoto Yuta
Comments: 11
Kudos: 55





	1. intro

Mark was so incredibly, vastly, comically, utterly fucked. 

He doesn’t know where he is or how he got here. What he does know, though, is that he’s covered in blood from head to toe and a naked, heavily mutilated body is lying at his feet. His heart is beating rapidly and his vision is fuzzy, and the only thing he can really hear right now is the whooshing of wind clashing with tree leaves that sounds awfully similar to his accelerating heartbeat. He stares at the back of the blurry head below him in horror, contemplating whether to leave his curiosity of who the person is unsatisfied, or identify who it is and feel an immense regret unlike no other.

He chooses the latter, and with shaky legs, drops down to his knees. It’s dark outside, pitch black, but the full moon seems to perfectly shine right down onto the mangled corpse lying sprawled out on the grass and lush undergrowth. 

It was kind of funny. The forest was beautiful, teeming with life and bright colors, and yet there was an outrageous crime lying right in its center, tainting every blade of grass with red and soaking the soil with rich new nutrients. The carcass looked so out-of-place and Mark couldn’t help but let out a chuckle at its irony as his gaze flitted to the cute buttercup flower growing right beside the dead body’s mangled fingers. Upon further realization of his unlikely predicament, his small chuckle broke into a large laugh as he clutched his hair in his fingers and felt fear bubble in his stomach and then rise up his throat to choke him. He pulled at his strands and the laughter kept pouring out of him, gradually getting louder and more breathy as he struggled to fill his lungs. 

When he ran out of breath and his scalp began to hurt, he managed to calm himself down, placing a shaky hand on the shoulder of the corpse. He scrambled to control his thoughts and calm himself down, redirecting his mind to any recent events he could remember.

He remembers a little bit.

He was celebrating the success of the latest comeback with the rest of 127. Taeyong and Jaehyun had brought a surplus of beer and Mark had no problem indulging. He and Yuta had a drinking competition, and with Mark determined to win, he drank five bottles of soju too many. Yuta had stopped him, saying he was drinking too much, and he was right because a couple of moments later Mark was bent over a toilet dry-heaving for the next thirty minutes with his friend rubbing comforting circles on his back.

Donghyuck was especially annoying when drunk, feeling up Mark, and trying to give him kisses. Donghyuck’s hands were roaming his thighs and gripping him in places friends don’t normally grip. His voice was in his ear, whispering things Mark would prefer to forget, but at the same time, Dongyuck’s playful teasing was now full-blown insults targeting his insecurities. One thing led to another and they broke out into a harsh verbal argument which the other members were trying to de-escalate. 

The last thing he remembers is sitting on the couch, surrounded by the rest of the members who were still drinking. Mark helped himself to another bottle, and by that point he couldn’t focus on anything nor hear what the members were saying. He guesses he ended up passing out on the sofa, but then, how the hell did he end up here, in the middle of the forest while the sky is pitch black?

Oh, fuck.

A headache slammed into Mark’s head like a tsunami, washing over every crevice in his skull and he retracted his hand off the dead body’s shoulder to tug on his own burning scalp yet again. He squeezed his eyes shut and whimpered because it was so, so cold, and the body in front of him was absolutely freezing and he just realized that the metallic tang of blood was stuck in his nostrils and oh god he really hopes this is just a dream. 

His clothes are sticky, wet and cling to his skin. The midnight-cold bites at any of his exposed skin and he hugs himself for warmth and comfort. Dread rises up his throat like bile as he reaches out yet again to the corpse and flips it over.

The sight forces anything and everything out of Mark's body, and he doubles over to puke on top of the already blood-soaked grass. 

The person in front of him was almost entirely unrecognizable. The jaw was unhinged and bleeding, and a solid ¾ of the person's teeth were missing. The nose was clearly broken and multiple wounds from blunt force trauma littered the body. 

The face was so distorted that Marks' only way of correctly identifying the body was the brown hair and the beautiful, honey-toned skin. 

Realization and horror dawned upon Mark as he felt more nausea ram into him like a truck. 

Beautiful, innocent, full-sun Lee Donghyuck lay sprawled on the ground underneath him, violated in ways Mark would wish upon nobody. And yet, Mark had done this himself.

He doesn’t know how he did this and he doesn’t know why, but tears stream out of his eyes like a waterfall and he’s gasping and sobbing. He throws himself over his friend and apologizes over and over, rocking himself back and forth to comfort himself.

He murdered his friend. His bandmate. His object of affection.

His entire body ached, but it was nowhere near the pain Donghyuck had suffered moments before his death, and this only made Mark cry harder. Snot was dripping out of his nose and drool dribbled from his mouth as he hyperventilated. He was panicking, and fear gripped his heart with icey claws and god, oh god, Mark was so fucked.

Mark was a monster.

Who the hell murders their best friend over a petty argument? And like this? Granted, he wasn’t in the right mind, but drunk people don’t usually go on killing sprees. 

As much as Mark would’ve loved to sit over his friends body and drenched in his blood, he needed to escape the situation and cover everything up. Staying in the woods next to his friend was basically an express ticket to jail.

The wind was whistling through the tree leaves, and the wind ruffled his dark locks. Mark began his trek through the woods, making sure to remember his surroundings. Every step seemed like a bomb as he broke twigs and crunched the leaves beneath him, and an owl from an unknown location called out as if to count down Mark’s time. A quick glance over the trees told him the sun was about to rise, so he needed to hurry before day broke.

And almost as soon as he began walking he found his car on the side of a deserted road cutting through the forest, headlights still on and the doors unlocked. He climbed in and fumbled around for his phone, finding it quickly.

It was 4:47 in the morning. His phone was at 15% and he knew he wouldn’t have a lot of time to use it, so he went straight to his contacts and stared at a familiar name before clicking on it.

The only person he could call was Yuta.

Yuta made it painstakingly obvious he would do anything for Mark, and he voiced this on a daily basis. Mark just hoped he was telling the truth as the dial tone sounded throughout the quiet vehicle.

It rang a couple times but finally Yuta answered with a tired “Hello? Mark?”

Mark didn’t answer and instead nervously chewed on his lips, biting back another set of sobs. Instead he breathed heavily into the microphone, feeling Yuta’s concern through the screen.

“Mark? What’s wrong?” Yuta urged, voice much more alert. Mark heard some rustling of sheets before Yuta spoke again, “Do you need me to come get you? What's your location? Are you lost?”

“Yuta…,” Mark whimpered, ignoring Yuta’s string of questions. His voice came out choked and restrained, but the message was still able to be understood, “Yuta… I fucked up.” 

“What’s wrong, then?” Yuta urged, and Mark could hear the jingle of car keys.

“Yuta, I think I…I…” Marks voice got cut off and his cries picked up once again. He sniffled into the phone as Yuta murmured comforting words to him. “I just really fucked up. Badly.”

“Mark, I can’t help you unless you tell me what happened.”

“Promise me,” Mark cried, shifting in his seat, “Promise me you’ll stay by me no matter what I’m about to tell you.”

“What did you do, Mark?”

“Promise me!” Mark exploded, hitting his steering wheel with his fist multiple times. “Promise me! Just… just promise me, okay? Promise me!”

“I promise,” Yuta reassured, voice softening. It was quiet for a couple moments as Mark gathered the courage to confess to his crimes.

“M-meet me in the back alley of that c-coffee shop we always go to. I-I-I can’t say this over the ph-phone,” Mark said between hiccups, “I’ll be there in… in an h-hour? I don’t kn-know where I am.”

“Mark, please just tell me,” Yuta huffed, frustration and concern evident in his voice. “What the hell did you do?”

Mark's foot was bouncing and his fingers tapped his steering wheel relentlessly. He licked his lips, followed by a swallow, and felt the pit in his stomach grow larger. He was so scared he began to feel like he was overheating, and sweat formed at his hairline. His eyes were unfocused and he was staring into nothingness when he finally decided to tell Yuta what he’d done;

“I killed someone.”


	2. hallucinating

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *im pretty sure Mark’s parents live in Canada but let’s just pretend they live on a farm in Korea’s countryside.
> 
> song of the chapter:  
> hallucinating - elohim

“Fuck,” Yuta hissed, looking at the tangled mess of bloody limbs in the trunk of Mark’s car, “What the hell, Mark? Holy shit. Shit, shit, shit, Mark.”

Mark only gulped, pleading with his eyes for Yuta to not hand him over to the authorities.

“Fucking hell, Mark. I thought you were joking,” Yuta groaned, rubbing his face with one hand. Recovering from the shock, he asked, “Who is it?”

A tear escaped out of Mark’s eyes and guilt gripped his neck with fingers as cold as ice and tightened its grip. His eyes flitted everywhere, from Yuta’s shirt collar to his feet, to his hands, to the floor and the wall behind him. He could look everywhere but at Yuta’s eyes. He whined and stomped his feet a little, trying to avoid the question. 

“Who’s the body in your car, Mark?” Yuta pressed, placing a hand on Mark's shoulder. 

Mark looked down at his fingers as he played with them, blinking back his guilty tears, “..hyuckie, I think.”

Yuta’s face remained like that of stone, but he pinched the bridge of his nose and let out a string of curses that gradually got more offensive as he went on, “You ‘think’?”

“I’m sorry!” Mark cried, gripping Yuta’s forearm, “I was drunk. I don’t remember doing it, and I don’t know why, but please, you’ve got to help me!”

“You _killed_ somebody, Mark! You killed _Donghyuck!_ ” Yuta stated the obvious, taking a couple steps back, “You know you’re a criminal now, right?”

“I didn’t mean to,” Mark wailed, feeling another wave of every negative emotion you could possibly name; shame, guilt, regret, fear… the likes. “I didn’t mean to.. I didn’t mean to..” He repeated, more to himself than Yuta. His face was buried in his hands, and his breathing quickened again, this time to a painful degree. The sound of the cars passing in the distance began to fade as they were replaced by the blood pulsing in his eardrums. His chest ached as his heart beat rapidly against it, as if it wanted to rid itself of the shameful body entrapping it. 

He was a monster, a horrible, horrible monster that didn’t know how to take a joke. 

Oh, god, his cute, lovable Donghyuck was stripped bare and dead in the back of his car and this was reality and he couldn’t do anything about it. He would never see Donghyuck’s shining smile ever again; no, he’d gotten rid of all those teeth like the abomination he is. Never would he hear that angelic voice singing next to him as he played the guitar.

Never again would he be able to lie next to the comforting presence of his best friend and soulmate. 

Yeah, Mark was never gonna touch alcohol ever again.

He was shaken out of his thoughts by Yuta, though he still couldn’t really hear properly and he was shaking too much to properly absorb his surroundings, though he could tell he’d ended up on the floor somehow. He was in fetal position, rocking himself back and forth with his hands clasped over his head and covering his ears.

Yuta was hugging him and rubbing his back when Mark finally came back to his senses.

“Shh, it’s alright. I know you didn’t mean it,” Yuta soothed, whispering calmly into Mark’s ear. “It’s not your fault.”

“How could you guys let me drink that much?” Mark whimpers, subconsciously trying to shift the blame anywhere to himself. He didn’t want to be a murderer, but Yuta said nothing to help write that narrative.

Instead, Yuta and Mark held each other on the dirty pavement in a sketchy back alleyway. Yuta continued to murmur comforting words saying, I believe you and You’re not a bad person, but Mark could hear Yuta’s near-silent sniffles and could feel his tears soak his shoulder.

A good fifteen minutes passed before the sun began to rise and they broke apart, ending their quiet mourning session. 

“We need to dump him somewhere,” Yuta muttered, breaking the silence. 

“Dump!” Mark gasped, exasperated, “We have to bury him, Yuta.”

“There’s no time for that. Remember, you’re a criminal now.”

Wow, Yuta just wasn’t gonna let him forget, huh?

They had a mini staring contest for a couple seconds, to which Mark lost quite quickly. Wordlessly, he climbed into the passenger seat of his car as Yuta closed the trunk and joined Mark in the drivers seat.

“We’re gonna need to clean the car after this,” Yuta mumbled out, gripping the steering wheel so hard his knuckles turned white. Mark turned his head away and rested his chin on his arm, still having trouble breathing properly.

“Hey, calm down,” Yuta whispered, leaning in closer to Mark and tucking a strand behind the young man’s ear, staring into his eyes, “I’ll help you figure it out. _We’ll_ figure this out, okay?”

Mark had no energy to find his voice so he nodded quickly and bit his lip anxiously, turning away in his seat. The sky was a bright orange fading into a clear blue. There wasn’t a single cloud in the sky and Mark knew it was gonna be a beautiful day.

Not for him, though.

“Where are we gonna hide him?” Mark asked, biting his hangnails. His fingers were stained with dried blood, and he could taste some of it in his mouth. Some of it was stuck under his nail, looking as if he’d just clawed his way out of a grave. His mind flitted back to Donghyuck and, feeling grossed out, he extended his hands out in front of him and looked back at Yuta instead. 

“There’s a difference between hiding a body and disposing of one,” Yuta grunted, staring at the beautiful sunrise, “Which one should we do?”

“How do we dispose of a body?”

“It’s complicated.”

“Well, let’s just bury him somewhere nice, like I said before..” The more time went on, the less real it felt, and Mark found himself growing increasingly comfortable with talking about his dead best friend that he murdered a couple hours ago. 

“We can’t bury a body ‘somewhere nice’ in broad daylight, Mark,” Yuta sighed, shaking his head and slapping a palm over his forehead. “That’s not how it works.”

“How about in my parent’s backyard?”

“Fucking hell, Mark,” Yuta exclaimed, “How are we gonna get away with that?”

“They won’t notice, and it’s not like anybodys gonna go to my parents house and dig up their backyard,” Mark said, “it’s the best option we’ve got.”

Without another word, Yuta started the car and pulled out of the alleyway and onto the road while Mark put his parents address in the GPS. 

It was far, and they were silent for half the drive before Mark’s phone began ringing. 

Him and Yuta looked at each other, panicked, when Mark saw it was Taeyong calling. 

“Oh my god! What do I do? Should I pick up?” Mark shrieked, voice high-pitched with anxiousness. “They know! They know!”

“Just pick up the call and act normal,” Yuta said calmly, “And put the phone on speaker.”

“But what if they know? What if they know??” 

“You’re making us seem suspicious by not picking up!” Yuta growled, never once taking his eyes off the road, “Answer the goddamned phone call!”

Mark stared at Yuta for a few more seconds, hands spasming with fright before he answered the call with shaky fingers and put it on speaker.

“Hello?” Mark greeted, voice wavering slightly.

“Where are you? Are Yuta and Mark with you?” Taeyong inquired through the phone, and he was met with silence and Yuta and Mark frantically mouthed at each other.

“What do I say?” Mark whisper screamed, putting himself on mute. 

“Say you’re only with me and that we’re going to your parents house. Don’t say anything else,” Yuta answered, ignoring Taeyongs ‘Hello? Is anyone there? Mark?’

“We’re here. And by we I mean me. Me and Yuta. Not Donghyuck.” Mark chuckled nervously, “I don’t know where Donghyuck is. We’re going to my parent’s house.”

“Why?” Taeyong asked, suspicion clearly evident in his tone. 

“Uh, I miss them?” Mark said awkwardly, and Yuta shook his head with an exasperated sigh. “Have you tried calling Donghyuck, though?”

Oh, shit. Donghyucks phone. Mark and Yuta totally forgot about that until now. 

“Yes, but he won’t-”

“I gotta go sorry my phone’s about to die, we’ll be back soon, love you thanks bye,” Mark blurted out quickly and ended the call and let his limbs go limp.

“You did the exact opposite of act natu-”

“Shut up!” Mark exploded, proceeding to yell at Yuta to pull the car over onto the side of the road and attempting to grab at the steering wheel. They were close to the countryside and were currently cutting through the last of the large, industrial buildings. Yuta, due to Mark's flailing hands covering his vision, nearly drove them into a ditch and slammed his foot on the brakes. Mark nearly hit the dashboard but stopped himself, although he could hear the carcass in the back hit the side of the trunk with a sickening, wet thump. 

“What was the point of that?” Yuta rolled his eyes and leaned his head back against the headrest. He rubbed his face and Mark gave him a quick apology before explaining that Donghyuck’s phone was in an unknown location. 

“The cops will find it and they might find evidence of the murder,” Mark fretted, staring at his own bloody hands. “I don’t know where I did it, so his phone could be anywhere!”

“Don’t worry about it, if anything, it could buy us some time,” Yuta reassured, his hands finding its way to Mark’s cheek. With his head, he nodded towards a building and Mark looked over and saw it was a clothing store. “We need to buy you some new clothes and get rid of these. You stay here, I’ll get you a change of clothes and hopefully some wipes for your hand and face.”

Mark let him go. He slid down in his seat and hoped to god that nobody would look inside his vehicle and see the bloody mess inside of it. 

With Yuta gone and the car stopped, it was quiet. Too quiet. Almost so quiet that Mark could hear the beating of his heart. Or, maybe, perhaps, it was Donghyuck? Could Donghyuck still be alive?

Mark pushed the thought out of his head and focused on his breathing, but his breathing turned into Donghyuck’s breathing. Then he tried to hug himself, but his arms turned into Donghyuck’s arms, and oh my god Donghyuck was standing in the street right in front of him, staring at him. 

He sat up instantly and tried to focus his eyes better, but it was too late, and Donghyuck was gone.

Where did he go?

Mark knew it was Donghyuck. It had to be, so where did he go? He was standing right there a couple seconds ago!

He must’ve been so lost and scared, and-

No. This was a hallucination. Mark repeated the word to himself and tried to shake the thoughts out of his head. He could’ve sworn he saw Donghyuck just now, but he knew Donghyuck was in his trunk, dead, battered, bleeding. He decided to observe the buildings to get his mind on something else, and saw a large screen showcasing ads.

It displayed NCT 127 Punch ads, and then a clip was shown with Donghyuck sitting in a chair with Jungwoo behind him.

Mark felt like he had been physically punched in the stomach.

Nobody knew. Just him, Yuta, and Donghyucks probably-enraged ghost staring down at him right now. 

What would happen when everyone found out Hyuck was dead? Just hours ago, he was alive and breathing. He was healthy, happy, and stumbling around having fun with his members. 

But now he was dead, and he barely had any teeth, his nose was broken along with the rest of his body, and he lay naked in the back of Mark’s car.

Mark just now began to notice the overwhelming stench of blood. Or perhaps it was just his imagination again, but he could see blood running out of the air conditioner and pooling at his feet. He could hear Donghyuck moving around in the trunk, and when he looked back at the big screen, he saw a picture of Donghyuck’s mutilated face, big and clear.

Mark screamed and fumbled to unlock the car door before scrambling out, landing hard on his ass. He looked around and saw a million dead-but-not-dead Donghyucks staring at him with their blank eyes and unhinged jaws and he let out another scream, crying out for Yuta and trying to run away. 

He spotted Yuta coming out of a store, and as soon as their eyes met, Yuta broke into a run and charged towards Mark.

“What are you doing?” He hissed, dragging Mark back into the car before shutting the door and then climbing into the passenger seat. “Why were you screaming like a lunatic? 

Mark only cried, covering his face with his hands. He was full-on sobbing, with tears cleaning the blood off his cheeks and snot dripping down his nose. Drool was dribbling out of his mouth and he knew he must’ve looked gross as fuck. Yuta grabbed Mark’s wrists and pulled his hands off his face, instead placing his arms around his own neck. Yuta then wrapped his own arms around Mark's waist and pulled him as close as they could possibly be while in the car. 

“What happened, Mark? What freaked you out so bad?” Yuta cooed, pressing a chaste kiss to the side of Marks neck in an expression of sympathy. 

Mark glanced around. There was no blood coming out of the AC vents, the screen was now showing some random skincare ad, and there was nobody out on the streets yet. 

“I was hallucinating, I think,” Mark sniffled, holding Yuta a little more tightly and sighing in content knowing he was safe right here, right now in this moment. He knew it wasn’t going to last long so he relished in Yuta’s arms as much as he could.

“Do you wanna tell me what you saw?”

Mark shook his head, mumbling a little “no”. He instead broke apart from Yuta and reached for the plastic bag, pulling out a sage green hoodie and black skinny jeans. There were wipes too, and Mark immediately cleaned the blood off of his neck, face, hands and shoes, sighing in content to finally be able to feel clean. He did his best to wipe the blood off of his hair, which worked pretty well, and then took his bloody shirt off and threw it into the backseat.

He ignored the way Yuta’s eyes raked down his torso as he pulled the hoodie over his head. While he was putting his arms through the sleeves, he felt Yuta reach over and touch his abs lightly. His fingers were barely there and it tickled a little, so he moved away and made eye contact with Yuta.

Yuta’s stare was intense. I mean, it always was; Yuta was just an intense person. But this glare had a different type of intensity to it and it made Mark shiver as he tore his eyes away and pulled his hoodie down over his stomach. Yuta retracted his hand instead used it to rest his cheek against it. 

Mark took off his dirty pants and threw them on top of his discarded shirt and struggled lifting the black skinny jeans up above his hips while he was sitting down. He shimmied around a little bit, feeling uncomfortably hot under Yuta’s watchful eye, and zipped up the jeans.His heart was beating quickly and he couldn’t tell if it was from the hallucination he’d had earlier or if it was something else.

He was unaware of the way Yuta hungrily licked his lips and rested his head against the headrest, body going limp as he finally felt himself relax. His hands still shook from fear but he was catching his breath and felt safe enough to close his eyes and melt into the seat. 

“Sage green looks good on you,” Yuta mumbled, but Mark didn’t acknowledge it, so Yuta said something else, “When was the last time you ate, Mark?”

“Yesterday afternoon,” Mark answered dully, “but I’m not hungry.”

“We’re about to meet your parents and dig a grave. You’ve barely even slept and we need energy if we’re gonna pull this off.” Yuta stated, one hand on the wheel and the other on Mark’s shoulder.

“The first thing I think about after killing somebody usually isn’t how I’m gonna fill my stomach,” Mark huffed, crossing his arms. 

“So you’ve killed more than once?” Yuta joked, sending Mark a playful smile. His smile grew when he saw that Mark actually let out one of those “haha that’s funny” breaths with a sheepish grin of his own. It wasn’t a laugh, but it was something, and it was good to know Mark was beginning to pull himself together.

Just then, Mark’s stomach growled. Yuta raised an eyebrow at that, “Still not hungry?”

“I don’t have an appetite.”

“Let me take you out. Let’s relieve some stress, okay?” Yuta said, leaning closer to Mark. The hand on his shoulder slid down to his elbow, then his wrist, and ended its journey on his outer thigh. “We’re not gonna be able to do anything if we keep stressing like this.”

Eventually, Mark gave in to his hunger and they set off to find a good restaurant on the outskirts of town before they drove off into the countryside to Mark’s parents. 

Yuta had driven them to a small breakfast cafe, and Mark entered it cautiously. He scanned his surroundings repeatedly to make sure the coast was clear, and couldn’t help but look over his shoulder every now and then to make sure no police were following them. He felt like everyone knew. They had to. Why else would everyone be staring at them?

Him and Yuta were sat at a small booth meant for two by the window. He leaned forwards in hit seat and placed his hand on top of Yutas, “What if they know, Yuta?”

“Nobody knows,” Yuta dismissed, flipping through the menu with his free hand. Mark had to give it to him: Yuta’s poker face was impeccable.

While Mark was stressing, crying and even hallucinating over his friend, Yuta had managed to keep his composure and comfort Mark, seeing past the fact that Mark was a literal murderer. But Mark still noticed the way Yuta gripped the steering wheel so hard that his nails dug into his palms, and so Mark lifted Yuta’s hand and ran his thumb over the tiny crescents that had broken skin. Mark also noticed the way Yuta was constantly pinching his nose, or how his brow had not moved from his furrowed position all morning. 

“What are you gonna order?” Yuta asked, and Mark shrugged. He held Yuta’s hand up and just clutched him tightly, playing with Yuta’s fingers and the rings adorning them. He sent silent apologies; ‘sorry for getting you into this mess, sorry for your loss, sorry for being a murderer.’ And most of all he prayed to whatever being existed above that if Mark were to be caught that Yuta would make it out okay. Yuta didn’t deserve to be punished for Mark’s mistake and, if it weren’t for the selfless scorpio, Mark probably would’ve crumbled and broken down completely. 

“I’ll get whatever you get,” Mark answered, and Yuta nodded at him. Yuta ordered a kimchi fried rice bowl for both of them.

“So what’s gonna happen when we get to your parents’ house?” Yuta asked, taking a sip of his drink. 

Mark looked around him and lowered his voice, trying not to appear suspicious. He leaned forward and said, “Well, first, we-”

“You look awfully suspicious right now,” Yuta remarked, gesturing at how far Mark was leaning and how he did a full room scan before talking to Mark. “Just speak normally.”

“Alright, um, first we have to say hi to my parents. They live on a large farm so there’s a lot of space for us to work with. We’ll need to get a shovel from the shed next to my house without raising suspicion and then do what we need to do.” Mark explained, playing with his drink instead of actually drinking it. “And then, you can grab the… prop, from the car, while I dig the hole.”

Yuta agreed, completely nonchalant. This time, it was Yuta who grabbed who grabbed Mark’s hands, “Don’t stress out. We’ll get through this. Together,” Yuta reassured, pressing a kiss to Mark’s knuckles, “I promise.”

Yuta had always been touchy, and Mark had learned to ignore it and act as if Yuta wasn’t doing anything. But when they were sitting alone together at a restaurant, with Yuta kissing his knuckles as if they were in some romance-mystery fanfiction, he couldn’t help but cringe and pull away. “Dude… you’re making us look like a couple right now.”

“But we’re partners, aren’t we?” Yuta said, completely serious, “... in crime, and love?”

“It’s not funny, Yuta. There’s a… problem… in my trunk.”

Yuta smirked at him and Mark slapped him, annoyed and flustered. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

They were forced out of their conversation when the waitress came and served them their food, and Yuta watched as Mark messily scarfed down the entire bowl. He said, “I thought you weren’t hungry?” to which Mark scowled at.

As Yuta and Mark were leaving, they noticed two policemen stepping out of their vehicle. One had a wallet in hand and it was clear they were just here to eat, but it didn’t stop Mark from turning into a nervous wreck. 

“Act natural,” Yuta advised coolly, straightening his back and continuing his trip to the car. Mark followed quickly behind but kept stealing nervous glances at the cops.

The policemen noticed Mark’s anxious behavior and approached the two boys, shit-eating grin on their faces. 

“You boys hiding a body or something?”

Yeah, Mark nearly fainted. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hope you guys liked this chapter. Please tell me if it’s too fast-paced because i have trouble slowing scenes down... also feel free to leave critiques on how to improve my writing :)
> 
> anyways RIP donghyuckie let’s all pray that the real life donghyuck and the rest of 127 will remain safe and healthy for a long time


	3. female robbery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ghosts are just as real as you and me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PLEASE READ!!!!
> 
> TRIGGER WARNING: this chapter and all the rest deal with very heavy topics, including things that will not be in the tags as I do not want to spoil the story. If you have any triggers I would advise you stop reading as this story is going to be very triggering, violent, and dark. This is your last warning. Read at your own risk. I am not responsible for any triggers you get from continuing. You have been warned.

Mark is good at a lot of things.

He can rap, sing, and dance. He can write and produce songs and perform amazingly on stage. He can sweep a whole nation with just a sheepish smile accompanied by a faint, breathy chuckle. He can play the guitar...

But he was absolute shit at hiding his emotions, and no matter how hard he tried to, his face always betrayed him. He went visibly pale and his brows furrowed together. He pressed his lips in a thin line and whipped his head around to look at the police so fast he gave himself whiplash. 

Yuta, though, had a remarkable poker face. He didn’t miss a beat when he smiled politely at the officers and said, “Yeah, wanna see?”

The two policemen just laughed and shrugged it off, gesturing towards Mark and making fun of him and his terrified expression. Yuta joined in, and Mark’s fearful face contorted into that of a scowl as he hit Yuta in the arm. 

“We might just have to search your car,” One of the cops teased, a grin on his face as if he was the most hilarious person in the world. Which he was not, by the way, and he should totally shut up because Mark was growing increasingly impatient and anxious. They were cutting it extremely close and they hadn’t even been able to bury their friend yet. 

Mark stood, glancing upwards at Yuta and then the police, begging one of them to end the conversation. It seemed like hours until Yuta thanked the police for their service and the two of them could finally leave the premises. Mark really hated cops right about now.

As Yuta pulled out of the parking lot, dark clouds were beginning to roll into the sky, ultimately blocking the sun. When they entered the countryside, they could hear thunder from a distance and both knew it would start raining soon.

Neither of them were speaking, and the vehicle felt stuffy and awkward. To break the silence, Mark turned on the radio to discover one of their songs were playing. It was fine until Donghyucks voice sounded throughout the car, and Mark shot forward to turn the radio back off in a hassle. His finger stayed on the off button for a second as he gave himself time to reprocess Donghyuck’s death. 

He threw himself back against the seat once again, head dropping down and face in hands. He still couldn’t believe he’d actually killed Donghyuck and kept pushing it out of his mind only for it to come back, for Donghyuck to come back. He wanted to run away and forget about it but he couldn’t, and even in death, Donghyuck was trapping Mark with strong arms and a tough grip. Donghyuck had wrapped his fingers around Mark’s heart, and it’s pretty hard to pry off the hands of a dead person. 

Mark started laughing again. He didn’t know why, and there probably wasn’t a reason, but he was laughing as loud as he possibly could and to nothing in particular. Yuta sent him a weird look but kept his gaze otherwise focused on the road. Each breath Mark took in quickly expelled itself out with a vocal _ ha-ha _ , and a couple minutes of this rendered him lightheaded and caused physical pain to well in his chest. When laughing started to hurt, he switched to crying. There were no tears, no snot and no drool, but the sounds escaped his lips and his breathing was still quick and uneven. 

“You need to pull yourself together,” Yuta said, eyes trained on the road. He put a hand on Mark’s shoulder as a show of compassion, and when Mark didn’t respond, he began to shake his shoulder a little. Yuta slowed to a stop on the side of the road and turned to Mark, his eyes dull but still ever so consuming. 

“Hyuck is dead. You killed him, and there’s nothing you can do about it but bury him and hope no one finds out about your crime,” Yuta pressed, grip tight on Mark’s shoulder, but Mark refused to look at him, “If you sit here and sulk you’re going to spend the rest of your life in prison. Is that what you want, Mark?”

Mark kept his eyes on his feet, which were now bouncing in anxiety. A car whizzed past them on the road and he flinched. He felt the hand on his shoulder move up to his chin, and suddenly he was forced to meet Yuta’s intense stare. “You need to look out for yourself now. We can’t go back,” Yuta sighed, voice softening as he rubbed Mark’s cheek with his thumb.

Mark jerked away and looked in front of them, before leaning forward in a monotonous kind of excitement, pointer finger extended, “That’s my parents’ farm!”

Yuta followed the direction of Mark’s finger and nodded before putting his hands back on the wheel turning onto a smaller path. They both fell silent again during the couple minutes it took to finally be able to spot the quaint two-story house by the end of the rocky pathway. 

In front of the house, they both glanced at each other before undoing their seatbelts. They walked towards the front door, and for Mark, it seemed as if it was in slow motion. There was a constant pit in his stomach afraid of being caught. He was scared his parents would snoop around a bit and find what he’d been hiding, or that he’d mess up and give himself away. Suddenly he was on their front porch, knocking on their door, and the pit grew and grew with suspense until his mother opened the door and Mark practically fell into her arms.

For a moment he felt like a kid again, safe in his mother's arms. He was hugging her tightly and could feel her struggle to breathe, but he refused to let go, so Yuta had to pull him away.

“Mark?” Mrs. Lee greeted, a happy smile on her face. “Has my son finally come to visit me?”

“I brought Yuta, too,” Mark replied sheepishly, noticing the fact his hands were shaking a little. He shoved them in his pocket as he watched his mother welcome Yuta with friendly cheek kisses, then call for her husband to come to the door. 

Mr. Lee made a noise that could be perceived as a happy greeting, and extended his arms out in a hug. He engulfed Mark entirely, and gave him a couple too-hard pats on the back. 

The couple invited Mark and Yuta inside, to which the two obeyed, and then proceeded to just stand awkwardly in the dining room whilst Mrs. Lee prepared some tea.

“Have a seat!” Mr. Lee exclaimed, pulling out a chair and sitting in it, gesturing for the others to do the same. When Mark and Yuta had taken seats next to each other, he proceeded to ask, “What’s brought you two here? Aren’t you boys busy?”

“We have a free schedule today,” Mark replied, lifting his arms from the table when his mother placed a cup of tea in front of him. “And I felt like seeing my parents.”

“Are you staying the night?” Mrs. Lee questioned, seating herself across from Yuta and next to her husband. “We have an extra room, and we’d love it if our son could stay with us for a while.”

Mark and Yuta looked at each other awkwardly before nodding, “Yeah, we can stay, but we’d have to go to sleep early and leave early.”

The four of them continued talking, and it was well around 4pm when Yuta’s phone began to ring. Mark leaned over to see the contact and saw that it was the manager, but Yuta had excused himself and walked into another room to answer the call. Mark joined him in a hurry, apologizing to his parents and standing next to Yuta in silence.

“No, we haven’t seen Donghyuck,” Mark heard Yuta say into the phone. “He’s probably off getting drunk with his other friends. Don’t worry about it.”

The phone call lasted only a couple minutes, and Yuta quickly shut down any questions, avoiding them but answering them at the same time. 

.

.

.

The sun had set, and the two boys were currently in the shed, searching for a shovel whilst Mark’s parents thought they were sleeping. 

After digging through piles of tools, Mark had finally found one. 

“I’ll find a good spot in a secluded part of the farm where we can bury him,” Yuta ordered, taking the shovel from Mark, “And you can carry him over and put him in.”

“Why do I have to carry the dead body?” Mark cried, jaw agape. “I don’t think I can. Really. Why can’t I find a place to bury him?”

“I’m not the one who murdered him,” Yuta dismissed coldly, brushing past Mark and disappearing into the nearby corn stalks. 

It was clear that Yuta wouldn’t wait, so Mark hurried over to the car. He looked over his shoulder a good nine times before opening the trunk and stared at the bloody mess inside and, god, it  _ reeked _ .

The body had been sitting in the car in scorching hot weather for hours, and this combined with the graphic visual in front of him had created such a putrid experience it made Mark double over and throw up. 

He sat there retching for a good five minutes before Yuta reappeared.

“What’s taking you so lo-” Upon seeing Mark’s pale face, Yuta hurried over with furrowed brows and wrapped his arms around Mark’s waist, steadying him. When it was clear Mark could stand on his own, Yuta let go but let a hand linger on his shoulder. Yuta snuck a glance at Donghyuck’s lifeless form in the vehicle, splayed out and spoiled, and audibly swallowed, “Oh.”

Yuta pulled Mark back in for a hug, but couldn’t tear his eyes away from the sight in front of him. 

While Mark couldn’t stand the sight or thought of it, preferring to run from his problems, Yuta was like a deer in headlights.

He knew it was bad, but he couldn’t stop staring at his dead friend while rubbing circles on the upper part of Mark’s back. Yuta felt cold and empty and terribly guilty that he was just letting this happen. But what was he supposed to do? It wasn’t Mark's fault. He couldn’t let Mark deal with this on his own. He’d already lost one friend, and he wasn't willing to lose another one. 

“You go find a spot to dig,” Yuta decided, pushing the shovel into Mark’s fingers. Mark gripped it tightly with one hand, clutching at his aching throat with the other as he watched Yuta reach for the body and swing it over his shoulder. 

“Inconspicuous,” Mark croaked, glancing over at the house once more to make sure no one was watching. Yuta threw him a dirty look and gestured over to the maze of crops awaiting them.

Mark pushed his way in through the corn stalks with the older man trailing behind him, the smell emanating from it not subtle at all. It smelled like a garbage left to rot in the sun, but tenfold. There was also a twinge of a sickeningly sweet scent, like you’d just stuffed a bunch of pollen and dead flowers in your nose. And there was Yuta, with the source of the smell just inches away from his nose while Mark was standing a good ten feet away (but was still able to smell it perfectly fine).

“It stinks,” Mark groaned, the stench mixing with the taste of vomit on his tongue. He still would've been throwing up if it wasn’t for his empty stomach.

Yuta didn't reply, probably because if he did so, he’d taste decomposing meat on his tongue. 

They trekked onwards a little longer, trying to find the most secluded and they finally discovered a spot beneath a tree with soft ground that had nothing growing out of it.

Mark pulled the collar of his shirt over his nose and got to digging. He heard the thump of Donghyucks body hitting the floor somewhere behind him but didn't dare to turn around and look. 

He focused his mind on the shovel and the ground beneath him. _ Push the shovel into the ground. Step on it to push it in deeper. Tilt the handle and raise the shovel upwards. Dispose of the dirt on your left and repeat.  _

Mark repeated it like a mantra in his head. 

It was quiet except for the sound of rustling leaves and the shovel hitting the dirt. Mark tried to hold his breath as long as possible, for each time he inhaled he was hit with the overpowering scent of decomposition. 

“Could you be any slower?” Yuta coughed through the sleeve covering his mouth and nose. 

But Mark didn’t reply.

He just kept digging. And digging. And digging.

He lost himself in the sound of rocky dirt spraying onto the ground, the sound of metal penetrating soil. 

Donghyuck was gonna be laid to rest, here, under the dirt.

_ Push the shovel into the ground. _

No funeral, no proper send off.

_ Step on it to push it in deeper. _

Nobody would even know that Donghyuck was buried here. Nobody would be able to visit him.

_ Tilt the handle and raise the shovel upwards. _

Donghyuck was just gonna rot here, under the soil, alone for eternity and much too soon. All because of Mark, for some reason that he can’t really decipher himself.

_ Dispose of the dirt on your left and repeat.  _

Mark picked up his pace mindlessly. The noise was starting to become fuzzy and he felt his hands shaking with the weight of the shovel.

He thinks he could hear Yuta trying to get his attention, but he didn’t have the energy to redirect his hearing and re-focus his eyes.

Then there’s a soft hand on his chin forcing him to look at a small apple in Yuta’s palm, “In his memory.”

Mark and Yuta switched places and Mark held on tightly to the apple, before digging his nails into its thin flesh and carving the dead man’s name into it.

Within an hour, the grave was ready, and together the two men rolled the corpse into it. Yuta filled it up with soil a little more than halfway before Mark threw in the apple, and then covered it with the remaining soil.

Mark supposed he should’ve said his final thoughts to Donghyuck. Should’ve repeated his apologies and explain his mistakes. His regret.

He supposed he should’ve reflected on their friendship and thanked Donghyuck for everything.

But he couldn’t. He didn’t.

He was a coward and he found himself speed walking, almost running back to the house without so much as a last goodbye. He wanted to run. He wanted to disappear off the face of the earth and the second the last grain of dirt had fallen on Donghyuck’s grave, Mark had pushed him out of his mind almost completely.

His pounding heart returned to normal and his sweaty hands were dry.

His overwhelming guilt was numbed to an empty nothingness as he sat on the steps leading into the home, decaying meat clinging to his clothes. He sat there for a good twenty minutes before Yuta caught up with him, and the whole time he’d thought about absolutely nothing at all.

Yuta’s eyes were puffy, his cheeks wet, and his clothes stunk, but otherwise he looked completely fine. He took a seat next to Mark on the staircase next to Mark, following his gaze to look at the full moon which shined brightly above them.

Silence was becoming a common thing between them, and currently neither of them said a word. 

Mark had to admit, a huge weight had been lifted off his shoulders. Now that he didn’t have a body in the back of his car, waiting to be discovered, he felt like he could breathe a little easier.

So he did, and he listened to the sound of his and his friend’s shallow breaths while basking in the moonlight. Mark wished he could’ve stayed here in peace a little longer, but the wind was picking up and the temperatures were dropping. 

  
  
  
  
  


Mark had thrown both of their clothes into the washing machine and currently he and Yuta were standing by the shore of a lake in their property, wearing nothing but their boxers.

It was around 2am now, and the moon had long been covered by clouds, rendering it hard for Mark to see. He had some random body wash in his hands, as they were planning on washing themselves off in the lake so that the smell of the lakewater could better cover up what they were trying to hide.

He felt uncomfortable with mud climbing up between his toes, and every time he took a step or shifted his weight he could hear a gross squelching noise. He slowly inched forward towards the lake, wondering how he was gonna get the mud off his feet when he was getting back out. 

Yuta, on the other hand, was eager to rid himself of the smell and yanked the bottle from Mark’s hands before lathering himself and then running into the lake.

“Is it cold?” Mark called out, picking up the bottle that Yuta had now discarded and pumping some of it’s contents onto his palm. 

“A little,” Yuta stood waist-deep in the water, using his hands to scrub himself as roughly as he could manage to rid himself of any traces of  _ murder _ . 

Mark tiptoed up to the water and stuck his toe in before recoiling with a shiver. “It’s cold!”

“You’ll get used to it,” Yuta replied, sinking lower into the water to wash off the rest of the soap.

Mark continued to hesitate, taking steps in just to pause and move backwards. He shivered and hugged himself as the wind increased once more and sent his hair splaying in different directions. It howled, and he sweared that if he listened close enough he could hear the breeze condemning him. 

So he turned his attention back to the white-haired man, who was stepping out of the lake and coming closer to Mark, “Get in, you have to wash off the smell.” Yuta grabbed for Mark’s hand and succeeded, pulling the shorter one into the lake against his will.

Mark sloshed through the mud and murky waters, giving up the fight and just letting Yuta drag him to the deepest end. Yuta took the body wash from Mark’s hands before turning Mark around.

“I’ll wash your back for you,” Yuta explained himself, and Mark felt him apply pressure to the backside of his shoulders. It felt good, and he felt some of the tension in his muscles easing with every motion of Yuta’s palms. Mark tilted his head back and murmured out a thanks, gazing at the sky. 

Between clouds he could see stars shining brightly, flickering and twinkling but beautiful. They were in colors like red, blue, white and purple, and he counted every single one as he felt Yuta’s hands scrub lower down his back. 

Where was Donghyuck now? Was he among the stars, illuminating as he watched over Mark? What was he thinking? Did he hate Mark for this, or did he forgive Mark? Did he understand? Does he know it was an accident? 

The more questions that filled his mind, the more Mark could feel a dark wave wash over him. The more time went on, the more he was submerged in it’s filthy waters, and guilt filled him up right to his core. He felt dirty and  _ wrong _ . No amount of soap could wash off the fact he was a  _ murderer _ .

“You’re thinking about Donghyuck,” Yuta spoke, more of a statement than a question. He was currently cupping water and drizzling it over Mark’s back to wash the soap off. 

“Yeah,” Mark sighed, pushing the thoughts of Donghyuck away and instead focusing on trying to find shapes in the dark clouds, “Not anymore though.”

“Don’t be too hard on yourself,” Yuta whispered, edging ever so close. His hands, which had been situated on Mark’s shoulders, slid down his arms to his wrists, “You weren’t in control of yourself.”

“It is my fault though. I drank too much,”Mark felt Yuta, with hands still wrapped around his wrist, bring his arms around his shoulder engulfing Mark in a tight back hug, “How the hell did i get drunk enough to kill somebody?”

“Maybe it wasn’t you,” Yuta suggested, laying his head on the back of Marks neck and breathing in the saltwater scent drifting from him. 

Mark hadn’t thought about that before, and this new revelation sent him flying out of the lake and running over to the hose at his house without stopping. He rinsed himself off one more time just to get rid of the smell of the lake, his muddy feet, and any last remnants of  _ death _ , before rushing inside the house. 

Yuta padded after him like a clueless puppy, hosing himself off as quick as he could before trying to find Mark in the house. He did so with speed, coming across Mark lying in his bed and staring at the ceiling. 

“Why’d you just run away?” Yuta crept into the room, quietly closing the door behind him while still facing Mark. He inched closer to the bed, unsure of whether or not it’d be okay with Mark for him to enter. 

Mark was splayed out on the bed, wet hair glistening in the splash of moonlight coming through his window. His body was mostly dry except for the few shining droplets scattered here and there across his skin. His face was unreadable, a mixture of pain and confusion, a hint of relief, and a shit ton of fear. 

Yuta was hovering beside Mark now, awkwardly standing next to his bed. Mark seemed like he hadn’t heard the question, so Yuta asked again and stood waiting for an answer that didn’t come. 

Mark gave some sort of response; it wasn’t much, just a little turn of his head so he could meet Yuta’s eye comfortably. He then shifted his focus back to the ceiling and Yuta, hating the silence, muffled it with creaks of the bed and shuffling of the bedsheets while he crawled over Mark and collapsed beside him. 

“What if i  _ didn’t _ kill Donghyuck?” Mark repeated Yuta’s earlier statement to himself, turning himself over into his side so he could look at Yuta again. 

“You didn’t. You couldn’t have,” Yuta reassured, turning his head to meet Marks eye with a smile on his face. 

All the evidence pointed to Mark. The bloody clothes, the fact they woke up alone together, the petty little argument which didn’t even hold much weight in the long run. They had buried Donghyuck in Marks  _ backyard _ , which Yuta now realized is the most dangerous spot as if Donghyuck was to be found, it would be obvious as to who did it. 

Yuta felt his smile falter a bit and scrambled to pick it back up again. Mark was beginning to look more and more relieved as he went on about how if he was blackout drunk, he wouldn’t even have the energy to hit anybody with  _ that much force _ enough times to kill a person. 

Yuta didn’t note how perhaps he wasn’t that drunk and his mind was just pushing it out, because trauma does that sometimes. 

“Yeah. You’re innocent,” Yuta hoped he wasn’t lying. 

“Can you help me prove it?” Mark asked, gripping Yuta’s hand in both of his and bringing them up to his chin. Yuta felt his mouth run dry.

Here was Mark, a real, genuine grin on his face at the thought that he wasn’t guilty. Yuta didn’t have the heart to tell him otherwise and nodded, hair scratching against the sheets. 

“Yeah, i’ll help you prove it,”

It was a lost cause. Even if he hadn’t done it, the police would’ve just pinned it on him to get it over with so they could move on to the next case. By now, his managers and the other members were probably getting worried and thinking of reporting him missing.

Mark was still half naked, and even in these circumstances Yuta was having trouble focusing on anything but that. 

He fought to keep his eyes on Mark’s face, Marks cute, playful face that resembled that of a happy child. Mark let go of Yuta’s hands to instead play with his hair, which had caused an eruption of butterflies. 

“Yuta,” Mark said, and it seemed more like he was trying out the name, really listening to how it sounds even though he’d heard and said it thousands of times before, “What would I do without you, Yuta?”

His hands moved over to Yuta’s temple, then down to his cheek before tracing his jawline. Yuta’s eyes closed involuntarily as he relished in the delicate touches he’d been wishing to get from Mark all these years. 

He didn’t want to say anything to ruin the moment, so they both just sat there in silence. 

It was peaceful for once, and the conditions were all too inviting so Yuta let himself slip into a peaceful slumber (but only after he was sure Mark had fallen asleep).

  
  
  
  
  


It was dark. Really, really dark. Mark thought his eyes were closed and tried to open them only to be met with more black. He looked down and was surprised to see his body perfectly clearly amongst the rest of the void and realized he was dreaming. 

And, god, it  _ stunk _ . Bad. It filled Marks nostrils and he could smell it even when he held his breath. It was so overpowering, so rank, and so familiar. He tried to walk forwards in the darkness trying to get away from the smell, but it remained, stagnant and constant. He didn’t even know if he was actually moving or not as there was no way to tell, but when he heard footsteps behind him he immediately whipped around. 

He was met with the sight of his late best friend, seemingly fine and in perfect condition, standing what a couple hundred feet away. His back was to Mark, and his head was facing up. 

“Hyuck!” Mark called out, breaking into a run. Several whispers at a time erupted in his ear, too many of them for him decipher just one. The closer he got, the louder the whispers became, until he was right in front of Donghyuck. 

“Donghyuck,” Mark whimpered, nearly crying as he placed his hand on Donghyucks shoulder. As soon as he did so, the whispers came to an abrupt stop. Mark turned Donghyuck around by his shoulder and gasped at the sight. 

While donghyucks body was fine, his face was still as broken as Mark remembered it, only this time his eyes were gone and instead maggots were crawling around the space instead. The head began to morph but Mark was too afraid to see who it was morphing into and ran in the other direction as fast as he could. 

He heard running behind him and knew he was being chased. 

Every step felt like there were huge weights tied to his feet. He couldn’t tell if he was going fast or slowly, but could still hear the stomping of feet grow louder behind him. 

A hand grasped his shoulder and Mark awoke with a scream, sitting up immediately, to which Yuta recoiled. 

“Nightmare?”

That’s one way to describe it. It was short but vivid, and the horrible smell was still in Marks nostrils and he could taste it on his tongue. The dream was strangely ominous and Mark could remember the maggots clearly, wiggling and weaving in and out of Donghyucks face. The thought made Mark feel itchy, and he could almost swear that maggots were crawling around behind his eyeballs. 

He tore his gaze from the ceiling and onto Yuta, nodding while scratching at his cheek and then rubbing his eyes. 

Yuta was fully dressed in yesterday’s clothes (except they were clean and smell-free), and held more in his arms. He stood up and noticed Yuta making a point of looking anywhere but at Mark, and upon looking down Mark remembered,  _ oh yeah, i’m not wearing anything but underwear right now.  _

After accepting his clothes from Yuta and changing into them, the two boys thanked Mark’s parents and announced that they were leaving before heading back to their dorms. 

“You’re not talking,” Yuta said, taking his eyes off the road for a half second to check on Mark while driving. 

“It’s not uncommon,” Mark said, pulling his hood over his head and tightening the strings. 

“Okay, but what scared you so bad that you woke up screaming like a banshee?”

“Nothing.”

“Nothing?”

“Just a bad dream,” Mark dismissed, sliding down his seat a little more and crossing his arms. “Aren’t you scared, Yuta?”

“Shitless.”

Mark snorted, feeling bitter, playing with his fingers, “You do realize our friend is dead? Gone? Never coming back? Even if i’m innocent it doesn’t change the fact that Hyuck was murdered.” 

There was a pause. Nobody said anything for a few seconds, and the only sound filling the car was the friction of rubber rubbing against the asphalt. Both of Yuta’s hands were gripping the wheel, and Mark watched his knuckles turn white, pink, white, pink as Yuta clenched and unclenched his grip in a steady rhythm. 

“What can we do about it, Mark?” Yuta sighed after a while, releasing the steering wheel with one hand to put it behind Mark’s headrest, “What do you want me to do about it?”

Mark tugged at the dry skin on his bottom lip with his teeth, looking from the road to his hands to Yuta, then back at his hands again. 

What Mark wants is to turn back time. But that’s delusional and he knows it is, knows that’s not gonna happen so he just settles on responding with silence. 

He feels Yuta’s gaze on him every few seconds, sees him turn his head from forwards to the side repeatedly out of the corner of his eyes. He sees Yuta’s mouth open and close, words stuck in his throat, not really knowing what to say. 

Mark shifted his focus to the dotted lines on the road in front of him. Trained his eyes on one line and watched it disappear underneath the car only to focus on another line somewhere ahead. He felt pain in his stomach, a sick twisting of his organs and his heart slamming against his chest. 

He recognized certain buildings that indicated they were getting closer and closer to the dorms, and with each familiar store they passed the more he felt himself sink into a state of panic. It felt at all times as if Donghyuck was behind him, watching him, vengeful and waiting to see what Mark would do next. It was Donghyuck that was twisting his inside with his mangled fingers, it was Donghyuck’s ruined face that seared itself into Marks mind. It was Donghyuck’s name, his laugh, his voice, all living inside of Mark the second he’d woken up in that forest. Alive but dead. 

His presence felt so real that Mark had to check the backseat to make sure it was empty, half hoping his best friend to be sitting there perfectly fine. He was left disappointed and sucked in a shaky breath, returning his gaze to the road. 

His eyes stung and tears formed on his eyelids, which he quickly wiped away with a sleeve. He turned his attention to his sleeves, which were longer than his arm and covered his fingers if he didn’t pull it back. His breathing staggered and he tried to steady it, tried to hold himself together, but then he remembered that there would be an investigation and Mark could be caught and end up spending the rest of his life in jail for a crime he didn’t consciously commit. 

He’d have ruined not only his own career, but Yuta’s for helping him and Donghyuck’s, too. The rest of his band members would be in shock and things would never be the same. They’d grieve over not only donghyuck but Mark and Yuta too. They’d cry and suffer and it was all Marks fault. It was Marks fault for bringing Yuta into this, smiley-faced and bright-eyed Yuta who never failed to make him or the others laugh. Everything was so good and went so shitty so  _ quickly _ . 

Mark couldn’t hold the tears back this time and let fat drops run down his cheeks. He felt some end up on his nose before dripping onto his lips, and when he bit his lips he could feel the saltiness of his own tears. 

It came slowly. 

He could feel the wave coming, could feel the anger and mourning and frustration rise in his throat. Saw that little restaurant that was only a couple minutes drive away from the dorms and let out a gargled shriek, flailing around in the seat, hitting his head against the headrest repeatedly and slapping his hands against the window, the glove box, anything close to him. He kicked his legs aimlessly, tried to inhale the snot coming out of his nose but it still dripped down his mouth and down his chin. He didn’t care how stupid he looked throwing a tantrum inside

of a moving vehicle, snot all over his face with bloodshot eyes. He tried to scream out his frustration, tried to let it all leave his system before having to go back to the dorm and face the other members. 

The car swerved to the right suddenly, parking in the side of the road and Mark raised his head to look at Yuta, whose face was in his hands but head still slightly turned to observe Mark. 

“Don’t cry. It’s alright,” Yuta cooed, reaching out to touch Marks hair gently. His eyes were turning red too, and Yuta let out a hiss before his own tears started to escape. 

Yuta opened his arms just a little bit, a hesitant invitation which Mark took without thought. Mark threw himself at Yuta as much as he could in their strange position in the car, both sitting in their seats but bodies turned to hold each other as best as they could. 

Mark buried his nose into Yuta’s neck and let himself sob, let himself be upset in the safety of somebody else’s arms. Yuta carded his fingers through Marks hair and Mark could feel Yuta’s tears dripping onto his shoulder. 

Mark shifted so that his forehead was touching the side of Yuta’s neck as he ran a hand down Yuta’s chest, the other arm wrapped around Yuta, feeling just the tiniest bit more secure and when Yuta was holding him like this it really did feel like everything was going to turn out okay. They stayed like that for only a few seconds before Mark felt Yuta’s warm leave him as Yuta sat back in his seat. He placed one hand on the wheel, the other still touching mark slightly. The car began moving again and minutes later they were pulling into the parking lot of their dorm room. 

  
  
  
  


Everybody was normal. 

It was late afternoon and the orange sun was streaming into their living room. Yuta was sprawled out on the couch, watching an anime with Jungwoo sitting on the floor beside him, playing random games on his phone. Jaehyun was pressing random buttons on a coffee machine, Taeil was nowhere to be seen, and Mark was sitting on an empty chair tuning into whatever Yuta had been watching. 

It was mostly quiet except for the low-volume noises coming from the TV. Mark’s eyes were flicking from the subtitles and back up to the characters, feeling the light from the setting sun hit his back and warm him up a bit. He could faintly see Yuta’s reflection from the TV, watching as Yuta stared back at him and sent him a playful wink. 

The clock above the front door ticked with each second, and the sound of coffee being poured into a ceramic cup mingled with that of the sound emitting from the TV. The silence was soothing and Mark felt nice to be surrounded by those he could count on the most. 

“Why is it so quiet?” Taeil announced, striding into the living room and making towards the door, dressed in jeans and a casual t-shirt. 

“Where are you heading?” Jaehyun asked, ignoring Taeil’s previous question, coffee mug pressed to his lips as he leaned on the counter. 

“You got a date?” Jungwoo looked up from his phone and over at Taeil, who gave him a look that was all but aggressive. Taeil shook his head and wavered by the door, hands stuffed in his pockets. 

“Just waiting for Hyuck. He wanted to go to that new coffee shop that opened up across the street,”

Oh.

Right. 

Donghyuck. 

Marks eyes shot to Yuta the second he heard his late friends name, but Yuta kept his eyes glued on the screen with no change to his emotion at all. Either he was completely unbothered by the topic at hand, was an incredible actor, or he had just not heard the  _ name _ . 

Mark scanned Taeil’s face- maybe Taeil knew something was up and was calling Mark’s bluff. After all, the three of them had been gone with no explanation for 24 hours and when they had returned Donghyuck wasn’t with them- though everyone’s expression was normal and unsuspicious. Taeil got up from his position next to the door at the same time the doorbell rang and Mark nearly fainted from excitement. 

The whole thing had just been a  _ dream _ . 

Donghyuck was alive and well. He was standing behind that door and Mark shot out of his seat just go to see for himself. Just to make sure. He stumbled over Jungwoo’s foot but his pace never faltered. He pushed Taeil aside and opened the door instead, swinging it wide open. 

And yeah, Donghyuck was there. Mangled. Beaten. Bloody. That same haunting jaw was mere inches away from Mark’s face and jumped back with a scream. 

“What’s wrong?” Jaehyun asked, glancing from Mark to Donghyuck, expression never faltering, “Why are you so scared?”

“Don’t you guys see him?” Mark cried, legs feeling like rubber as he took multiple steps back, only stopping once he fell. 

“You shouldn’t be scared,” Taeil laughed, looking towards Donghyuck, “You’re the one that did this.”

“I always knew you were capable of amazing things, but never something like this, Mark,” Donghyuck laughed, jaw swinging and eye sockets empty. A single tooth dropped out of his mouth and onto the floor, making a clicking sound with every bounce. It stopped right by Mark’s foot and he shrunk away from it, covering his mouth to hold the contents of his stomach. 

“You left me under the dirt, Mark,” Donghyuck scolded, stepping into the apartment and making a slow and clumsy advancement towards Mark. “I’m decomposing now. I’m rotting away. Isn't it funny how quickly you can go from being successful and famous to nothing but worm food stuck six feet under the ground?”

And Mark saw it, those little maggots invading his skin, climbing in and out. He saw the lack of hair in his scalp and the blue and purple hues splattered across his skin. He saw the bug crawl slowly out of his eye socket and drop into Mark’s lap. 

Mark’s eyes followed the bug fall into his lap and immediately everything came out of him. The food he had eaten poured out. Ramen, eggs, a little bit of tomato. He emptied it out on the carpet and felt a hand pat his back soothingly. 

“I’m always here for you, Mark, but how am I supposed to know you won’t do the same thing to me that you did to Donghyuck?” Yuta smiled, hand running up Mark’s back and to the back of his neck until he had a firm grip on Mark’s hair and pulled back his head, mouth to ear as he whispered, “kill or get killed, I guess.”

And all of a sudden there’s hands on his ankles and wrists, bringing him up onto the coffee table. Taeil and Jaehyun hold down his legs while Jungwoo and Yuta hold down his arms. 

“Let me go, I didn’t mean to!” Mark wailed, struggling in their grip. He thrashed and thrashed to no avail, begging and pleading but nobody would hear him. 

Donghyuck approached with a kitchen knife and pressed it against Mark’s cheek, “You unhinged my jaw, how about I tear off yours?”

“No,” Mark sniffled, shaking in their hold, “Please. I’m sorry, please. I didn’t mean to. I don’t remember it. Please.” He looked around at all of them. They all looked eager, anticipating the show Hyuck would put on in the name of revenge. 

“But letting you go would be so boring,” Donghyuck fake pouted, changing the angle of the knife so that the sharpest edge was poking right against Mark’s skin, “and you know how much I love having fun. Stop being so serious for once, Markie.”

Mark tried to, be honestly did. Tried to man up, be brave and take it like a man, but when he felt the knife dig into his cheek and begin to cut against his bones all the liquid in his body dispensed himself. 

It felt warm and soaked his jeans, and he watched as the rest of the boys laughed and made fun of him. They laughed and laughed, their grips only getting tighter while the pain in his jaw only increased. He felt hyuck put a hand in his mouth and pull his jaw down slowly until it reached its limit before only trying to pull it down further and it  _ hurt _ . 

It hurt and hurt and hurt and the snap was what woke Mark up. 

He sat up instantly, feeling himself hyperventilating. Although the pain from his jaw was no longer there he could almost still feel it, and the smell of urine filled his nostrils. 

He slowly lifted the covers to see his pajamas and sheets stained and smelly. Mark gathered both himself and his sheets, walking them over to the washing machine and stuffing everything, including his pajamas, into it. His legs were wobbly as he stepped into the shower and it took almost too much energy to turn the knob. He nearly fell as he exited and was completely out of breath by the time he’d dressed himself in a pair of boxers and a t-shirt. 

He tried going back to sleep on his empty bed. Glared at the darkness filling his room and repeatedly checking on whether or not his manager was awake. He closed his eyes but every time he did all he saw was that  _ face _ , that horrible, terrible, terrifying face. 

It was around 4am when he finally gave up and stumbled into Yuta’s shared room with Taeil. Yuta had woken the second Mark opened the door and welcomed him with open arms, concern in his voice as he asked what was wrong. 

“Do you trust me, Yuta?” Mark sniffled as he climbed in next to his friend, arms wrapped around Yuta’s neck. He draped his leg over Yuta’s torso for extra comfort, “Do you believe I’m bad?”

“No,” Yuta reassured, wrapping one arm around Mark and pulling him as close as possible. His free hand enclosed around that of mark’s, “What happened? Why are you so shaken up?”

“Promise me you’ll stay,” Mark whispered, ignoring Yuta’s questions. “Stay with me. Please. I swear I’m not evil.”

“I know, baby, I know,” Yuta’s fingers combed through Mark’s hair and he went silent for the rest of the night, listening to Mark’s endless questions and insecurities without giving a response. He combed through his hair and rubbed his back and kissed his forehead until Mark’s body finally stilled, his hands finally stopped shaking and his breath slowed down as he finally fell asleep.

As he witnessed Mark being so vulnerable in his arms, more than ever before, he decided. He was unsure before, he was scared, but now he knew. Yuta would stay with Mark through everything. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m too lazy to reread this and go through and edit so sorry for any mistakes lol. Anyways enjoy this very angsty chapter it took me forever to write :(
> 
> RIP Hyuck 😩 i’m gonna go manifest his safety right now 😔
> 
> also ANOTHER WARNING AND IMPORTANT NOTE:
> 
> READ THIS
> 
> PLEASE READ THIS:
> 
> 1\. this story is FICTIONAL. The characters are based off of real life people but I have obviously changed things about their personalities. The way they think and act in this fan fiction is NOT the way they think and act in real life.
> 
> 2\. For the purpose of having characters, NCT 127 will be the ONLY nct group. Other subunits like Dream or Wayv do not exist.
> 
> 3\. and again- THIS STORY IS VERY TRIGGERING. PLEASE DO NOT ROMANTICIZE THE CONTENT.
> 
> 4\. Go stream bad alive by WAYV. bad bitches stan ot21


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